


Good Boy

by BigBoyParty



Series: Good Boy [1]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Body Worship, Bondage, College AU (kinda?), Degradation, Drinking, Face-Fucking, Gangbang, Jockstraps, M/M, Multi, Nipple Play, Sadism, Sugar Baby Chan, spitting, sugar baby hyunjin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 16:53:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21919147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigBoyParty/pseuds/BigBoyParty
Summary: Chan felt himself blushing deeply, the man’s hand picking lint from his shoulder again, fixing a strand of his hair before wrapping his arm firmly around Chan’s waist. “You want everyone to have a good time tonight, don't you, boy?” Chan was pathetic. All it took was one word and he was won over, spreading his legs when the older man’s hand traveled between them.---When Chan's sugar daddy invites him to a party, group sex is nothing unexpected. However, as the night progresses, Chan realizes that these men aren't as innocuous as he had hoped.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Hwang Hyunjin, Bang Chan/Original Character(s)
Series: Good Boy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1607758
Comments: 2
Kudos: 133





	Good Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! It's another gangbang for your reading pleasure. Tagged as nonconsent because Chan is Too Drunk and there is an obvious shift in his enjoyment of the experience about halfway through. I'm in no way endorsing the acts of anyone in this story, it's all fiction and should stay that way. I hope you enjoy!

“You like the shirt?”

It was simple. Black, with a little embroidered logo to let everyone know how expensive it was. And Chan could feel it. The fabric felt soft and sturdy, thick so when he stretched it in his hands he couldn’t even see his fingers behind the threads and the collar fell against his neck with a satisfying weight when the man behind him folded it down.

“I love it.” He really did.

Chan looked at himself in the mirror. Expensive black polo, expensive black pants, little hoop earrings which weren’t expensive but he had bought them himself so they weren’t expected to be. The man behind him was barely visible, broad and tan with hands that smoothed over his shoulders with a heavy even weight. Chan didn’t even know his real name, they had met on the internet. He had given Chan some half-assed fake name like “John” when they met, but Chan didn’t bother with that anymore. Chan just called him Daddy (or sir when he was being bad).

“Good.” The man kissed Chan’s neck and fixed the way his shirt was tucked into his pants. Always fixing. Chan never mentioned it, but he kind of loved how neurotic the older man was. It made him feel protected. “You’re gonna do great. I know you are,” the man said softly, picking some lint off of Chan’s pants and turning him around to kiss him deeply. Chan smiled and stared up into his dark eyes, and the older man laughed a little and ran a rough thumb over his cheek, “Boy.”

They were going to a party. One with all of John’s friends, with expensive whiskey and fur rugs and wedding rings everyone chose to ignore for the night. John had asked Chan to wear his jockstrap for the evening, and it felt strange to have his ass hanging out in the expensive slacks John had bought him. But Chan was a good boy, and he always followed orders.

The older man’s hand now rested protectively on his knee, thumb tracing circles into his skin during the uber ride. “How are your classes?” he always asked this. It was like he had forgotten that they’ve been seeing each other for a while now, at least a month, they should have moved past small talk at this point. Chan didn’t mind too much though, sometimes it was nice to just be pretty and stupid and talk about things that didn’t matter.

“They’re good. Finals are coming up.” It was snowing outside, but just lightly.

“Mm. I hope you’re studying. And lacrosse?” John was far from a real partner, but Chan still felt all nervous and fluttery whenever they touched. He paid his tuition too, which was nice.

“It’s good. I’ve still been on the bench mostly but, you know.” Chan was bouncing his leg again, “It’s good.” The man’s fingers tightened on his knee and it stopped immediately.

“As long as you’re having fun. It keeps you in shape nicely, too.” The man rubbed his hand up Chan’s thigh, as if to illustrate his point, and the two shared a little smile and kissed in the dark backseat of the uber.

The house was huge. Chan was practically paralyzed when they arrived, his sugar daddy pushing him out of the car with soft encouraging words and a firm grip on his waist. It was some old stone mansion, up a driveway with a gate on the end and surrounded in well-trimmed hedges. Chan and his daddy crunched up the gravel path, the older man telling him how the bushes would flower in the spring, how well their hired gardeners tended to the yard. And then they were ringing the doorbell, and then they were inside.

It took every bit of restraint Chan had not to let his mouth gape open in awe of the house. It was warm inside, someone in all black taking his jacket from him the minute they stepped in the door. The lights were warm and flattering but not too dim, shining from only the best angles on the wall, making the foyer they had entered into appear even larger and casting the other guests at the party in a haze of dim gold. And the other guests were...old. Middle aged at least, in various states of formal dress. He felt stupid and boyish in his polo shirt and earrings, but the way they looked at him was an entirely different story. When he and John entered the room they all lit up with smiles, raising glasses of red wine and dark liquor and rising from the leather furniture to pull John into maculine hugs where they patted his back firmly.

“This your new boy?” one of them asked, eyes combing over Chan’s body. There were about ten of them in total, all with eyes on Chan like they were lions and he was a fresh piece of meat in their enclosure.

“Yes, this is Chan. He’s a student.”

“What do you study?” Another one asked, eyes piercing into Chan’s own. He wanted to shrink. Chan was lucky he was standing or else his leg would have been bouncing.

“Uh, finance. But I like music a lot and I play lacrosse, um. Too.” The man laughed softly, and Chan wasn’t really sure what was so funny. After enough firm handshakes and overly-friendly hugs Chan and his sugar daddy were invited to sit with the others, glasses of alcohol pressed into their hands. Chan was thankful they didn’t ask what he wanted, he only really drank at frat parties he didn’t know anything about brandy or wine or any of the stuff they were foisting upon him. He ended up with some cocktail in a square glass, with a rich amber color and an orange peel on top in a perfectly delicate twist.

The conversation moved easily, most of what was being said flying over Chan’s head as he marveled at the interior of the house. It was almost like a parody of itself, with a roaring fireplace and a record player crackling off some smooth unoffensive jazz. In a chair across from them, Chan noticed another guy his age. He was slender, tall, with black hair and glittering silver earrings. He was sprawled out on the chair like he owned the place, a glass of wine in one hand and his leg, which was slung over an arm of the chair, tracing gentle circles where it hung. His arm extended out, hand in the lap of some man with glasses and a heavy gold watch who massaged the younger man’s fingers absentmindedly. He must have been another boy. Chan wondered if his jockstrap was kind of uncomfortable in this setting too.

As the night progressed, everyone got drunker and the conversation grew more lively. Chan was handed drink after drink, a different man filling his glass every time it ran out. He settled back into the drunken warmth, smiling when they commented on his reaction to a new drink: “Oh look he really likes that one;” “What a little sweetheart;” “Let me fill that up for you boy” etc. He couldn’t shake the eyes of the other boy, who scowled and limply raised his wine glass when he wanted it to be refilled, but Chan didn’t know what there was to scowl about. Chan was having a great time, he was smiling and everyone around him was complimenting him and he tucked so neatly into his daddy’s arm. Maybe the other guy was just jealous.

Chan shifted in his seat. Damn, he had been drinking a lot.

“What’s wrong boy?” his daddy looked down at him with a little smile.

“I gotta piss.” There was restrained laughter around him and the older man’s hand tightened on his knee. A little too tight.

“Don't be vulgar. The bathrooms are down the hall to the right.”

“Thank you,” Chan muttered and stood up, swaying a little on his feet. Moving slowly, he stumbled out of the room. It was a little embarrassing but he figured he shouldn’t feel bad about it. He was John’s little college armcandy, who cared if he got too drunk and had a good time? Fuck that twink in there, he was boring.

After what felt like several minutes of wandering around and opening doors to empty bedrooms and linen closets, Chan managed to break into the bathroom. He swayed and blinked to accommodate his eyes to the bright lights, which were certainly not as flattering as the rest of the house. Fuck, his vision was getting blurry. He slapped his hand on the door’s lock and stumbled, pressing one hand against the wall to steady himself as he unzipped his pants and pulling his dick out just in time to release an unsteady stream of piss in the toilet’s general direction, trying to aim but ending up splattering it a little on the seats, maybe the floor a little. Fuck. This house was way too fancy and way too clean for shit like that. Chan zipped up and grabbed some toilet paper, messily dropping to his knees and wiping up the splatters on the seat and floor. He slumped against the toilet for a second and took an unnecessarily long time to pep talk himself into standing back up.

Right. Chan flushed the toilet and dragged himself over to the sink which was raised like a bowl off the counter with some brown mosaic pattern and a faucet shaped like nothing he had ever seen before (because leave it to rich people to make a sink you’d need training to use). Chan smacked his hand on the faucet, and it did nothing. He lifted some part of it which looked like it might be like? Lifted? But that didn’t work. Chan must have spent about 20 minutes in there, twisting and pushing at the faucet before his hands finally found some weird arm of the fixture and pulled it down, letting out an exasperated sigh when it finally worked. He washed his hands fast just in time to hear a knock on the door.

“One second!” Their hand soap smelled sweet and floral. Chan washed it away quickly and splashed cold water on his face, trying not to feel too bad about wiping off his face on the homeowner’s soft white hand towels.

When Chan finally stumbled to the door, he was surprised to see the other boy standing in the doorway, looking down at him. “Did you figure out the sink?” the other guy asked, and he actually sounded pretty sober, though his hand clenching the doorframe betrayed his drunkenness.

“Oh, uh, yeah.” The other boy scoffed and combed some fingers through a section of Chan’s hair that was still wet. His hands lingered at Chan’s hairline, one thumb running over his cheek before he was pulling the elder into a kiss. It was slow and messy. His spit tasted like red wine and Chan was overwhelmed, stumbling against the others arms and growing hard in his pants. The other boy pulled away, eyes meeting Chan’s own. 

“I’m Hyunjin” he said, smiling before kissing Chan again. Chan moaned softly when Hyunjin untucked the back of his shirt, a hand pushing into his pants to grab the waistband of Chan’s jockstrap and snap it. Hyunjin’s breath was hot on Chan’s ear, “ _ Stick to the wine next time, you should keep track of how much they’re giving you. _ ” 

Chan barely had time to process Hyunjin’s whisper in his ear, before an extremely drunk man in a gold watch and glasses came stumbling down the hall, calling for his boy. “Come on,” he called out with a smile, face red, “Let’s go to bed, boy.” Hyunjin put on a gentle smile and sauntered over,

“Okay daddy,” letting the man wrap an arm around his waist and sparing a glance back at Chan, calling “Good luck,” before the two disappeared upstairs.

Chan tried to enter back into the living room without too much of a fuss, smiling sheepishly when he flopped down on the couch and the men shouted out greetings and jokes.

“I’m glad you managed to find your way back,” Chan’s daddy chuckled and ran one heavy hand over Chan’s thigh.

“Thanks.” Chan hoped no one could see how hard he had already started to get, just from Hyunjin kissing him and now from the older man’s hand on his thigh. God he was pathetic.

“I was telling all my friends about what a good boy you are for me in bed.” Chan felt himself blushing deeply, the man’s hand picking lint from his shoulder again, fixing a strand of his hair before wrapping his arm firmly around Chan’s waist. “You want everyone to have a good time tonight, don't you, boy?” Chan was pathetic. All it took was one word and he was won over, spreading his legs when the older man’s hand traveled between them.

“Yes Daddy.” The man smiled and kissed Chan’s cheek,

“Good boy. I knew you’d do well tonight.” Someone else sat on the couch behind him, but Chan couldn’t look, his daddy’s hand was gripping his jaw firmly. The hands behind Chan wrapped around him, running up under his shirt. They were warm and kind of leathery, the cold line of a wedding band tracing slowly over his abdomen.

“He’s such a little jock, isn’t he?” the man asked, and Chan watched his daddy smile.

“Oh yeah. Lacrosse, remember?” Chan couldn’t help but let his breathing pick up when the man’s fingers pinched at his nipples gently, his cock growing hard and heavy in his pants as his daddy unbuttoned his polo. “Arms up,” Chan’s daddy commanded, and he obeyed, lifting his arms above his head so the strong hands on him could pull off his shirt. He felt exposed, but the room was warm and he was drunk and it felt nice to have so many eyes on him.

Chan leaned back against the leather couch as the man who was once behind him now planted lips against his chest, flicking his tongue over the nipple and making Chan let out a gentle groan. His daddy kissed his neck, sucking gradually until bruises began to form. More men rose from across the room, and Chan felt his skin growing hot as the men laid hands on his thighs and his stomach, ran fingers through his hair and flat tongues along his armpits. He felt sweaty, pushed his hips up just a little when one strong hand grabbed him between his legs, feeling along his length, and another reached under his waistband to snap the elastic on his jockstrap again. His vision was blurry but he could still make out what they said about him

“God, he’s handsome, isn't he?” “You like that, boy?” “Look at those arms;” “Look how hard he’s getting;” “Look at that cute little smile.”

“Should we take him upstairs?” Chan heard his daddy ask, cutting through a sea of heavy breathing and soft moans. The hands were all over him again, helping him up, grabbing his ass and smacking it, pushing another cool glass into his hand. “Drink up, boy.” Chan was stumbling, spilling a little, but the men around him helped the glass to his lips and he drank and drank. Fuck that other boy. He didn’t even like wine anyway. This drink tasted like oranges and old wood and he felt fancy and cultured, body practically dragged along by the men around him, leading him upstairs.

The room they finally entered was gorgeous. Warm lighting, with little fixtures all along the wall and the biggest bed he had seen in his life. White sheets, with some elaborate burgundy comforter. “Make yourself comfortable,” one of the men said, depositing Chan on the bed. It took a second for his head to stop spinning before he could sit up, weight propped up on his arms, and look at the men around him. “Aww, look at him,” one of them remarked, and he smiled wide. Chan had never felt so desirable before, like another luxury object in this house of expensive things. 

“Have another drink,” one said, sliding onto the bed with Chan and holding out a glass of brown liquid. Chan couldn’t. He was having fun but he wanted to remember this, to remember being something so beautiful. So he said a polite “No thanks,” and received an immediate smack across the face.

He didn’t recognize the hand at first, but he knew the voice behind it: “Behave yourself, they’re being generous, boy.” Chan’s face stung. He hated disappointing his daddy.

“Yes sir.” So he drank, letting the men pull his hair and tilt his head back to gulp it down too fast. It must have been whiskey, and there was a lot of it. A full glass, no rocks, and it burned the whole way down. Chan swallowed it all and shuddered, a little drool already sneaking from the corner of his lips.

“Good boy,” his daddy spoke again, caressing his hair. Chan’s head was spinning. He noticed the mirrors on the walls around him, not everywhere but scattered throughout. Saw the way he swayed in them. He had honestly forgotten he was shirtless, but he looked good. His eyes had that fluttering, distant look of someone too drunk for their own good.

“Let’s get his pants off.”

Chan didn’t argue when the men pushed him onto his back, lifting his hips into the air to pull off his pants. A hand fell on his dick, squeezing him over his jockstrap. “He’s big.” Chan must have had the stupidest smile on his face right now, his cheeks warm and arms splayed limp at his side while he moaned softly. “He’s tight too,” his daddy assured the other men, turning Chan’s face to look at him, “Isn’t that right?” Chan was practically beaming,

“Yes daddy.” Someone spat, a warm glob landing just below Chan’s eye, and there was a harsh voice,

“Filthy boy.”

Everyone laughed, and Chan was so drunk he couldn’t tell what they were laughing at. Couldn’t even tell how many men were around him anymore. He tried not to let his smile falter when he stopped recognizing his daddy in the crowd. Hands massaged his cock firmly, squeezed at his muscular thighs and shoulders, pinched and twisted his sensitive nipples. The bed moved under their weight and Chan just groaned wordlessly when they pulled his arms above his head.

“Wha-” Chan slurred, too drunk to argue when he felt cold metal against his wrist. Something clicked, and his arms were stuck in place, secured around part of the ornate headboard.

“Aww, he looks so confused,” one of the men murmured, and a pair of rough fingers found their way into his mouth. Chan sucked on them, whimpering when someone grabbed his shoulder and traced their tongue up into his armpit. He was unnaturally aware of how sensitive his armpit was, how bad it must smell with the sweat dripping down his body. But that didn’t faze the man at his side, who licked at the delicate sin desperately, sucking on it and pulling it between their teeth in spite of the hair. “Does that feel good, baby boy?” another voice asked, and Chan moaned. Someone slapped him across the face again, laughing at how he gasped.

Around him, Chan heard clothing dropping to the floor, zippers unzipping and belts unbuckling, quiet discussion he couldn’t make out. He glanced at himself in the mirror, vision blurred. His body was all splayed out, slick with sweat and twitching as the man to his left dove into his armpit, trailing his tongue across Chan’s chest to his nipple. Chan gasped and moaned, his legs kicking a little when he felt teeth against his sensitive chest. More men climbed onto the bed, naked now, one pushing the guy at his armpit aside so they could straddle his chest.

“You like sucking cock boy?” he asked, laughing when Chan nodded. The man grabbed Chan’s jaw and pulled his mouth open, spitting inside before pressing his cock against the younger man’s lips. Chan was too drunk for anything fancy, so he just wrapped his lips around the man’s cock and hummed gently, drool already slipping from the corner of his mouth. “That’s a good boy,” the man growled, and Chan moaned a little. The hand on the back of his head was firm, pushing him down slow but not yielding when Chan gagged. He squeezed his eyes shut and the men around him cooed, rubbing his neck and shoulders. “Aww, poor thing.”

As the man on his chest pushed his cock deeper into Chan’s throat, other hands fell on his legs, bending them up towards his shoulders and massaging his cock firmly. Someone slapped it, making Chan whimper around the cock in his mouth, before there was warm breath on his asshole and something wet. He had never been eaten out before. Hands massaged his thighs while a tongue circled around his asshole and slowly pressed itself inside. Chan moaned, well tried to, before the man straddling his chest grabbed Chan’s hair and started thrusting into his throat faster.

It was too much. Chan’s eyes were fluttering, gagging again and again as his body tried to reject the cock forcing its way deeper and deeper into his throat. He tried to catch a breath through his nose but he was so drunk and everything was happening too fast and streams of snot poured from his nostrils. Men at either side of him pinched at his nipples, laughing at how he jerked and his cock twitched against the thin material of his jockstrap.

“God, you were right. He really is a little slut.” Someone called out, to an army of polite laughter. Chan gagged, thick drool tinged with bile spilling from the corners of his mouth, but they didn’t stop. These men would never stop, they were like animals.

The tongue at his asshole was joined by a couple of fingers, coated with lube, pushing inside of him slowly and stretching him out. Chan couldn’t control his body, his hips were moving wildly and when the fingers inside of him found his prostate, he came. Hips twitching, breath shuddering, cum spurting through the fabric of his jockstrap and leaving a stain. 

Not that this changed anything. If anything, the men around him grew even more excited seeing Chan orgasm. They snapped the elastic on his jockstrap, and the man in his throat pulled out, jerking himself off at a wild pace and cumming all over Chan’s face: “Good boy.” Someone grabbed his jaw and turned his head to the side, tongue pressing flat against his face and gathering up the cum. Chan’s vision was going blurry around the edges. He watched himself in one of the mirrors, watched how his back arched when the man stretched him out with two fingers. His mouth was gaping open, drool trailing from the side of his lips while the man crouching over him licked all over his face. The guys breath smelled like alcohol, the same woody taste he had enjoyed earlier. He shouldn’t have been surprised when he brought their lips together. The man’s breath hot in his mouth and his tongue trailed slow and lazy over every surface it had access to. Chan moaned wordlessly and felt a cock pressing against his ass.

“God, look at you,” the guy who was now pushing the tip of his cock in Chan’s hole slapped his thigh, making Chan’s hips shudder. “Such a stupid fucking slut.” The tongue left his mouth just in time for the man pushing his thighs towards his chest to slam his cock inside, deep and hard and way too fast for Chan. He let out a strange, breathless grunt, and the man laughed, “You like that?” Picking up his pace, driving his cock relentlessly into Chan’s ass.

Soon enough there were fingers in Chan’s mouth again, and spit on his face. “Open up, boy,” and he complied. Someone mounted his shoulders again, grabbing Chan’s head and forcing their cock inside. They fucked his throat like he was just a toy, going fast and only pulling off occasionally to turn Chan’s head to the side so he could spit or puke, slapping him for even needing a break. “That’s right boy, fucking take it.” There were all sorts of filthy phrases echoing throughout the group, some men jerking off and watching while they waited their turn on Chan’s mouth and ass, some grabbing at his arms and legs, smacking him just to see him twitch and whine. It wasn’t long before the man straddling him was cumming down his throat, another cumming just from watching and splattering Chan’s stomach.

Chan’s stomach was churning. His mouth hung open, drool trailing down his chin and eyes rolling while man on top of him squeezed his thighs and drove his cock in deep and fast. He heard some laughter, but couldn’t make out the words, could barely open his eyes long enough to see what was going on anymore. Someone slapped him and Chan whined, loud and angry, close to tears. They pulled out of his ass, coating Chan’s stomach and jockstrap with another load. Someone yanked the jockstrap off of him, leaving his cock exposed, red and angry from overstimulation. Men laughed and kissed it, sucking just long enough for him to get hard before slapping him hard between the legs. Chan groaned loud. Honestly, he was getting pissed off with them hitting him all the time. A hand reached for his cock and Chan squirmed away. There was a shift in the men around him.

“Come on boy, don't you want to be good for us?” Vaguely, Chan registered the jingling of a belt buckle, the bed sinking with a man kneeling next to him.

“No,” Chan grumbled, yelping in pain when a belt made impact with his leg.

“Let’s try that again.” The belt trailed over his thighs and sensitive cock, “Don't you want to be good for us, boy?”

“I’m tired,” Chan screamed when the belt came down on his thigh, tears flooding his eyes. Someone shoved Chan’s jockstrap in his mouth, hitting him hard across the face.

“We’re not done playing with you, boy.” A hand gripped his jaw and he looked up into the brown eyes he now recognized as his daddy’s, “Now shut the fuck up and take it before I stop blowing all my money on you, slut.” A thick wad of spit landed between Chan’s eyes, dripping slowly down his nose to mix with the tears on his cheeks.

The next men who took turns on Chan were far from gentle. They grabbed his thighs, smacked him, and fucked him hard and fast until he screamed around the underwear in his mouth. The dull ache in Chan’s shoulders was just barely registering to his drunken mind. He was covered in cum and sweat, skin bruising up where the men beat him with their belts or bit down hard on his flesh. Chan stared in the mirror. “Look at him,” someone muttered, “So full of himself. I bet he loves the way he looks all spread out, isn’t that right?” A firm hand on Chan’s chin moved his head up and down like a puppet, to a chorus of laughter.

“Does baby boy like being fucked rough like this?” The hands made his head nod again.

“Like being used by a bunch of old strangers?” And again.

“You’re not gonna tell anyone about this are you?” They shook his head, Chan now so disoriented he could do little more than cry and try to keep his eyes from drifting shut.

The men were brutal with him, fucking him until his hole was numb and his eyes rolled back in his head, mouth dropping open to let out these dumb, high-pitched whines. “Like that, don't you boy?” one man asked, and drove his cock into Chan at a particularly aggressive angle. Chan groaned, his head flopping to the side. The men untied his wrists, and Chan was almost thankful, before they turned him onto his stomach and fucked him again. One man rested his weight with two hands on the back of Chan’s head, so that the boy was suffocating in his pillows. Another pulled his hair back, hard, and pressed a sweaty hand over his mouth. Chan didn’t care anymore, he let the men push him into any position they wanted, let them paint his face with cum and leave red marks all over his neck and torso. He started getting more comfortable with the idea of closing his eyes, his head pounding as he watched colors dance on his eyelids and listened to the ragged breathing around him. Another man finished inside and hit the back of Chan’s head, firm enough to make the poor boy go limp against the mattress.

The rest of the night was never meant to be remembered anyway.

When Chan’s eyes finally cracked open, the room was dark. He was comfortable in the down comforter and soft, silky sheets, despite his head throbbing, stomach turning, and the aching pain all over his body. Chan looked around. His eyes fell on a mirror and he had a sudden flash of recognition, rough hands on his jaw, laughter, and a sharp pain in his ass. Speaking of. Chan winced and lifted up the covers. Sure enough, he was naked, and closer inspection revealed a small bloodstain between his legs. Chan pulled the covers back up, disappearing back into the warmth and darkness for a few more minutes, at least.

“Aw, look at you,” it was the whiny voice of the other boy that woke Chan up. Hyunjin was his name, right? Something like that. The boy was wearing a t-shirt, some boxers, and a black silk robe which draped delicately at his waist. He shut the door behind him quietly, and took a seat on the bed, handing Chan a large bottle of expensive-looking mineral water. “They really did a number on you, huh?” Hyunjin’s hand was cool on Chan’s forehead, smoothing down his messy hair. Chan drank his water fast, without stopping. It tasted oddly of dirt, not entirely refreshing but god did Chan need it. 

“How much do you remember?” Hyunjin asked, and Chan shrugged.

“Uh, well. I was at the party, and then I went to the bathroom and you made out with me,” Hyunjin smirked a little. Chan continued, “And then I was in the living room again and everyone was, like feeling me up and...uh..I don't know. I guess I got fucked up here right?”

“Yeah.” Hyunjin sighed and ran a thumb over Chan’s cheek, cradling his head softly. “Don't worry, things get easier after a while.” He pulled Chan into a gentle kiss, those lips still so soft and warm as he remembered them, though now he tasted of toothpaste more than wine.

After the party, Chan took an uber back to his dorm. He took a shower that was as hot as he could get it and watched his skin light up pink from the heat, saw how it was speckled with handprints and bruises. He spent the day with a big gallon jug of water by his side, advil in hand, and as much as it pained him to admit it, he couldn’t help touching himself thinking of the way he’d been used last night. It came back to him in flashes: the spit on his face, the tongue curling into his armpit, and every time he remembered something in his stomach stirred and his dick twitched just a little. He had been absolutely destroyed by the men last night, but he couldn’t stop thinking about them, or the way Hyunjin’s soft lips felt against his own.

When his daddy called again, Chan answered, and when the time came for another party he dressed in his best outfit, jockstrap underneath. “Wine this time, right?” Hyunjin asked him at the door, gently caressing his shoulder. Chan just smiled and said yes, as he was so good at doing, and settled into his daddy’s lap. 

The house never got less beautiful, and Chan was a good boy all night.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks! Feel free to reach out, I always love meeting new ppl
> 
> Twitter: [BigBoyEels](https://twitter.com/BigBoyEels)   
CuriousCat:[BigBoyEels](https://curiouscat.qa/BigBoyEels)
> 
> *UPDATE: THIS INFO IS NEW! If you have an old account for my twt or curiouscat, make sure you’re following these instead!*


End file.
